


Seven Minutes

by pumpkinsake



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Short & Sweet, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-13 22:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinsake/pseuds/pumpkinsake
Summary: Jesse and Hanzo are locked in a closet for seven minutes at a college party on a dare. Seven minutes of awkward shuffling and sharing breath is far too long for Hanzo. Seven minutes with nothing to do just won't do for Jesse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been feeling stupid emotional about junk recently, so I'm just going to start writing cute little McHanzo one shots to get through it!
> 
> Edit: Except this won't be a one shot because I was asked by NUMEROUS people after posting to continue it so... yeah.

“Seven minutes is too long to be in this closet.” It was the smallest closet in the house, the one right when people walked into the place. Full of coats, shoes, and discarded winter hats and gloves. Items long forgotten, and not enough standing room for two people. Or one person, for that matter. Hanzo leaned into one of the winter coats, wrinkling his nose at the musty scent around them. Some of these things unworn for years, and now he had his body all over them. “What do they expect us to do?”

“I can start screaming,” Jesse laughed in return. He tried to push himself into the jackets and not the other man in the closet. On cue, he pounded his fist against the door and made the most obscene moan he could muster from the base of his throat.

“Stop that,” Hanzo barked, punching him in the shoulder as his friend rolled into drunk laughter. “Unless they have their ears pressed against the door, they have no idea what we’re up to. We can stand here.”

“We can stand here,” Jesse repeated, taking a swig of beer as he almost lost his balance against a pair of old work boots. He reached out and braced his hand to the left of Hanzo’s head, unable to keep them far enough apart. People weren’t meant to stand in this closet.

Hanzo stared towards their feet where light peeked in from the outside. Warmth gathered between them, the close confinement and hot breath filling space. He wasn’t counting the time, his phone left in his coat pocket somewhere in the party house. He was hopeful their time was about up, but sure it had only been thirty seconds. “This game is stupid.”

“Hey, you said dare, and this is the dare. And you don’t back down from dares.” Jesse leaned the head of his bottle forward, pointing it towards his friend. His poor judgment of distance caused him to knock Hanzo in the eye instead.

The other man grunted, turning his head and brushing his nose against Jesse’s hand to the side of his face. He tried shifting his weight for a gap between them, only swallowed by jackets and unused hangers. “We are adults. This is a child’s game. It’s silly.”

“They coulda asked you to suck my dick in front of everyone, but they didn’t.” Crude as always. Although Jesse held a good point. They were friends with a bunch of children, the dare could have been much worse. They didn’t have to do anything in this closet. Except breathe and not trip into Narnia. “So I’d take it. It’s only a few minutes.”

A few minutes. A few minutes that felt like forever cramped in the small, stuffy hallway closet. This was so immature. Not that he expected better of a bunch of drunk college students. It seemed so childish. This was something he would have done when he was fifteen at a friend’s birthday party. He actually remembered this happening to Jesse during some birthday in middle school. Back when first base was the most scandalous they could imagine. Stupid. They were adults. And this closet smelled gross.

“Would it kill you to kiss me?”

Hanzo straightened his back. Through the light from the bottom of the door, he read that smirk on his friend’s face. They had been drinking, but they both had a high enough tolerance that he knew it wasn’t alcohol speaking. Jesse was being himself. Sarcastic. Inappropriate. Entertaining.

Hanzo reached out and snatched up the beer bottle, drowning his response in a heavy swig. It wouldn’t kill him but it would be… strange. They had known each other since they were children. Not even a curious thought of trying ever crossed his mind. Not because Jesse wasn’t attractive, not because he had an aversion to men. But because they had been friends for so long. He narrowed his eyes. Why was he even taking the comment as serious? Jesse was joking. “Very funny,” he muttered after a swallow, handing the bottle back.

“But would it?”

“Jesse, what, no,” Hanzo grunted in return, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. “Why are you asking that?”

“We’ve been friends for how long and you haven’t thought like… like once.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not once?” Hanzo peered through the dark, unable to press himself back any further into the closet. Full back against one side of the wall, Jesse with his elbow to the side of his head. He took in a strong scent of husky beer and whatever cologne Jesse drowned himself in and swallowed. No, not once. Not ever.

How many minutes did they have left? They were reaching the end of his nonsense, right? “Are you asking me this because you want that to happen? Or are you having concerns about your sexuality?”

“You know exactly where I stand with my sexuality,” Jesse said, matter of fact. Slurred as he downed the rest of his beer, letting the bottle drop somewhere in the closet. Hanzo knew exactly where Jesse stood. Too close, a little to the right, using the wall and coats to keep himself in place. “I get it, it’s fine. Forget I asked. Trying to pass the time.”

Silence lingered between them, despite the commotion outside the closet. Hanzo tried to focus his attention on something else, on a passing conversation. But he couldn’t seem to get past their shuffling bodies, swishing jackets, and the lump in his throat. Had he ever thought about it? They had been friends for so long. It could have passed his mind once, but he buried it deep down. Who thought of their best friend like that? Because someone dared them into a closet didn’t mean they had to follow along. He took in a heavy breath, waiting for this to end.

“People are going to think what they want regardless of what we do,” Jesse interrupted his thoughts.

Frustrated with the conversation, Hanzo clenched his fists at his side. He puffed hot air from his nose and muttered, “If you want to kiss me so bad, then do it.” More to hop over the hurdle that Jesse seemed to struggle with in his mind. Jesse might of thought about it all the time because that’s how his curious mind worked. If he got it out of his system, he might stop pressing.

Hanzo shut his eyes, taking in an anxious breath when Jesse leaned forward. An eternity passed between the first movement and when their lips finally touched. A brief peck, a second of skin to skin contact. Like they were actual children dared into their first kiss. Something he expected of his fifteen year old self. Enough for a small shock, but not enough to fulfill any desire that plagued Jesse’s head for who knew how long. The breathy silence that followed fell tense in Hanzo’s stomach.

But it only lasted for a second.

Jesse dipped back in for better, stealing away what Hanzo wished were his first. Full, warm lips firm against his own. The shock of the first only a warning as his entire body filled with wanting tingles. He never considered this before, what his friend’s lips felt like. Always moving with exaggerated words, chewing on the end of a cigarette, kissing the head of a beer bottle. Never against his, parted and begging for him. Hanzo obliged with an eager tongue, chasing alcohol and tasting hunger. His heart swelled and he found himself arching every part of his body closer.

It was only a kiss. He had many before with other people, many that meant nothing. Some that meant everything. None with his best friend. His best friend he had known since they were kids. His best friend he shared nothing more than platonic feelings with. Why did this feel so magical?

Jesse broke the kiss, leaning his head back with a breathy sigh. “You got your tongue pierced?” he questioned with half a chuckle rolling off his love bitten, swollen lip.

“Yes,” Hanzo muttered back, thankful for the darkness. He was sure hazy lust left his eyes half lidded. “You were there, remember?” He reached out and drew his hand along his friend’s left bicep, pressing his fingers into it. Under a layer of blue plaid laid a small tattoo Jesse got a couple years before, right above the crook of his elbow. He wanted to say more to remind him, but the words tangled in his throat. “This…” was all he could manage.

“Yeah, yeah, you disappeared,” Jesse murmured into his lips, Hanzo swallowing his words. He knew the story. They were with a group of friends and Jesse’s tattoo was taking too long. Everyone else got something, Hanzo didn’t want to feel left out. He forgot the rest when Jesse pushed his body further into the wall, the two making the best of the cramped closet. Hanzo drew him in, slithering his arms around his neck. Biting his lip, taking in every amused sigh that escaped Jesse’s mouth.

With every second their lips connected, Hanzo felt himself melting into the floor. His intoxicated mind zoned into the way Jesse’s fingers bunched around his shirt. How Jesse pulled his hips to him as he stole away his tongue. For a second, even over the bumping music and commotion outside, Hanzo heard him moan. Either Hanzo was a fantastic kisser, or Jesse thought about this a lot more than he let off.

Hanzo wondered why he hadn’t thought of it more.

A heavy knock rapped against the door, Jesse immediately breaking the kiss. He pushed a hand against the wall and away from his friend, almost tripping on his discarded beer bottle. Hanzo swallowed, still full against the inner closet wall as the door flung open, greeting them with a sea of faces. Some paying close attention to the two, others lost in the party. “Okay, time’s up,” Mei grinned, tapping the front of her phone as the timer ran over seven minutes and still counting. She huffed when she couldn’t shut off the app, turning away to busy herself with her phone.

“Easy as pie,” Jesse muttered, kicking out the empty beer bottle towards the center of the room. He strolled out, patting down his crumpled plaid button up before meshing into the crowd.

Hanzo stood still in the open closet door, watching everyone return to the party without a care. Unaware of the blissful red that spread over his skin. Not noticing the way he bit his lower lip, wishing Jesse’s were still against his. He never considered it, what it was like to kiss his friend. Not once, not ever.

Jesse returned from the kitchen with a new bottle as Hanzo finally kicked the closet closed. He took the beer, watching his friend fish out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Steppin’ outside a second. Wanna join?” Jesse offered, but Hanzo couldn’t even look him in the eye. He instead looked towards the sliding door to the outside where a couple friends waved them out.

“No, I’m good,” Hanzo muttered, hardly heard over the party chatter and music. Jesse shrugged and dipped towards the backdoor, disappearing outside with friends. Like nothing even happened. Like it was only a mindless game exchanged between friends. A dare, only a kiss. A blip in the back of Jesse’s mind.

Hanzo never thought of it in their long friendship. Now he couldn’t get the taste of his lips off his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: When I originally posted this, I expected it to be just one chapter and over, leaving Hanzo to be a sad little bean with unrequited feelings. But due to popular demand, I'll be continuing it for a chapter or two!!
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read! <3
> 
> I drew a little something to go along with this. It's on my [Overwatch blog](https://pumpkin-sake.tumblr.com/post/178207405501/seven-minutes) if you wish to check it out. Also, if you would like you support me in any way, consider leaving a tip on my [Ko-fi!](http://ko-fi.com/studiostarlight).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to popular demand, I have decided to continue this little thing! The chapters aren't so long, and there will only be three, but I suppose that better than leaving everyone hanging like I did.
> 
> Let's face it, I'm a writer that enjoys letting people suffer lmao Thank you everyone for the amount of love I've received on this in such a short time. You're all the best. And I really enjoy writing a pining Hanzo. <3

In their long years of friendship, Hanzo never considered it. Never wondered what a second of skin to skin contact felt like against his best friend. How his lips tasted, what he sounded like in momentary bliss. Not once, not ever. It was two days later and Hanzo sat with his head down on the lecture hall desk. That kiss was the only thing on his mind.

 

His professor droned on towards the front of the class. Where as Hanzo always paid perfect attention, today he couldn't think straight. His head pounded as though he was recovering from a hangover, but that was the day before. He couldn't push Saturday night from his brain. How well they fit into one another even though they were struggling for room in the closet. The spark, the shiver, the way Jesse moaned. Lifting his head, he beat it once against the desk, swallowing down a groan of annoyance.

 

"You good?" Genji whispered, shutting his laptop, leaning towards his brother.

 

"Headache." Headache? Heartache.

 

"Wouldn't hurt so bad if you stopped beating it against you desk." Even Angela's soft voice from the other side of his brother drilled in his skull. She dug through her purse, pulling out a bottle of ibuprofen. She set it on Hanzo's desk, all the while focused on their professor, returning to her notes. She tapped Genji's laptop to enforce him to do the same.

 

Hanzo opened his eyes to the vibrating pulse against his desktop. He slid his phone out of view of his brother, tucking it in the barrage of his folded arms. A text from Jesse. His heart fluttered and his stomach tensed. One stupid series of kisses and now he was a bumbling fool. He swiped open his phone, peering over the message with anxious eyes.

 

"Hey, sorry 'bout the closet thing Saturday. Hope shit ain't weird with us."

 

Hanzo inhaled, wanting more. He hadn't spoken to his friend since the party, or much at all since leaving the closet. The game continued, the party went on. But Hanzo spent the night at an awkward distance. Sipping his beer wondering if he caught feelings or if the alcohol thought for him. He grunted. He had been sober for a while, yet the feelings remained. Oh yeah, things were weird.

 

"It's okay. We were drunk. It happens." And it did happen. With other people he never got attached to. And he would laugh with Jesse the next morning about the guy he wrangled into the bathroom at prom. Or Jesse when he hid under a girl's bed when her father came home after she said he'd be away for the weekend. They would laugh, make fun of each other's dumb mistakes, and roll on with their lives. But not this time. He stared at his unsent reply. Short, to the point. Brushing it off as easy as Jesse left the closet. Kicking it aside like the empty beer bottle. Like he should with all these newfound feelings.

 

His finger lingered over the send button. He sounded so sharp. He considered adding a stupid emoji, brush it off as a joke. He also thought about pouring the rest of his feelings so Jesse understood what happened. What he caused by laying his lips against him. But he decided against both, sending his curt message and burying his face in the crook of his elbow. The class could not end fast enough.

 

"You should go home," Angela murmured, leaning over Genji so her soft words reached him. She reached out and pressed the back of fingers against Hanzo's forehead, checking for a fever. He was warm, but not from sickness. He stared at her, heavy eyed from the safety of his crossed arms. "Genji has paid more attention than you have today. I'm concerned." Genji narrowed his eyes, pressing his hand against his chest with a silent look of disgust. He lowered the top of his laptop, hiding the game he had going and not his notes. "I'll send you my notes later. Please go home."

 

Hanzo grunted from his spot against the desk with disdain for the childish treatment. Going home wouldn't solve the heartache dwelling in his chest. It wouldn't soothe the anxiety of staring at a blank phone screen. It wouldn't erase the cologne and alcohol tinged kiss. Going home would only give him a place to sulk with problems unsolved. His phone buzzed again and Genji leaned to the left, peering into the little hide out Hanzo created. The other brother turned his body to hide his phone, shooting the younger a dirty glare.

 

"Oh yeah, happens to us all the time lol. I didn't make you uncomfortable?"

 

The lump in Hanzo's throat made a dramatic drop to his stomach. Uncomfortable? It was the best feeling he had in a while, cramped in that small closet. Body pressed against his, swallowing his lips and begging for his breath. Forgetting his words when Jesse stole them away. It only became uncomfortable when Jesse walked away. Wandering through that party like they didn't cross uncharted territory in their friendship. A kiss. It was only a kiss. "I'm fine. Just a kiss. No big deal." His reply sent much quicker than the first, and he cringed after tapping his phone. He sounded like a dick. But if he was ever going to get over the feelings, he had to throw them out the window. Because it was obvious Jesse didn't feel the same. Jesse wore his heart of his sleeve most days. So if he felt the same, he would have addressed it by now.

 

His phone buzzed.

 

"Yeah..."

 

The heaviest one word answer he ever received. He had never paid so much attention to a simple conversation in his life. Texting his best friend felt painful. He analyzed every character on screen. What kind of tone was that? A sigh, a moan? A laugh? Hanzo was dying and sitting in class didn't help. With a deep breath, he sat up and began to collect his things. "You headed out?" Genji questioned, still trying to get a good look at his brother's phone. Angela tapped on his closed laptop and pointed her pencil towards the front of class.

 

Once his brother's attention turned, Hanzo popped in his reply. "Did it make you uncomfortable?"

 

He sat for a few heavy second, hand clenched on the edge of his desk. Maybe that's why Jesse darted from the closet so quick. Maybe it wasn't anything compared to what he thought it would be. Maybe it was disappointing and Jesse couldn't stop thinking of how terrible it was. But Jesse kept going. He pressed him up against that wall. He _moaned_. Hanzo shivered in his spot and stood without a word to his companions.

 

Slipping out of class, he kept his shoulders bunched and head low. He didn't feel bad enough to head home, but his emotions wouldn't keep him in control. No use sitting in class if he didn't hear a word anyone said. He gripped the strap of his backpack in one hand, his phone in the other. Staring at the screen, waiting on a response. It had only been a minute since he sent his reply, but they were the longest seconds of his life.

 

Second to those few precious seconds of anticipation before their lips first touched.

 

He sighed, pocketing his phone as he stormed down the hallway. He was being pathetic. This was ridiculous. They had been friends for years. Since they were children, crashing their bikes on concrete and climbing trees. Struggling through math homework and sneaking Jesse out of detention. Panicking into Hanzo's first date, and supporting Jesse during his first break up. All these years, nothing more than platonic. And now he was sure his insides were eating themselves knowing there could be something more.

 

Hanzo sprinted down the stairs, yanking out his phone again. Nose to the screen, waiting. Waiting for an answer. Something. So he could either let it go, or make something of it. He was so distraught he didn't hear the heavy footsteps pounding towards him. After rounding the first flight, he crashed into the zoned out body making his way to class. Hanzo stumbled back, landing butt and palms on the step, his phone falling in his lap. Jesse fell on the flat part of the stairwell. His phone scattered from his hand, sliding into the tip of Hanzo's shoe.

 

Hanzo collected himself from the steps, staring down at the lit up phone by his sneaker. A wall of text flooded the screen. He stared. Was it meant for him? That response he was waiting on, anxious breath building in his lungs. "Hey, don't you have class right now?" Jesse grunted as he pushed up from the ground, hand outstretched to his phone. Hanzo swept it up before him, glancing at the screen without hesitation. So many words, his brain scattered to read before his friend pulled it from his fingers. Jesse shut it off and stuffed it in his back pocket.

 

The two stood in awkward silence in the empty stairwell, Hanzo staring with narrowed eyes. He didn't catch a single inkling of what the massive text was about, or if it were even for him. But he feared the worst, brain wringing with anxiety and stomach tangling in knots. What if Jesse was about to tell him he was uncomfortable? That asking him was a stupid idea,. And that if Hanzo were dwelling on feelings, he should swallow them down and forget about it. As he argued with his own mind, he ignored that he forgot to answer his friend's question. "Hanzo, you alright?"

 

"Sick," Hanzo blurted, shaking his head to pull himself from his brain. "Not feeling good."

 

"Yeah, you don't look good," Jesse muttered, pressing his fingers against Hanzo's forehead. An absent gesture, one he had done many times before. A touch that raised Hanzo's temperature a few degrees. His face burned, flushing red, and sweat broke in his palms. "Stared getting sick today? You were fine all weekend."

 

Right up until the point where they stepped out of the closet. Because he didn't have nervous butterflies devouring his soul. Hanzo stepped back from the touch, almost tripping back against the step. He lowered his head, maneuvering around his friend to dart towards the exit to the parking lot. Going home seemed like the best option. He wouldn't sit through his next class with much peace at all. "Yeah... see you later."

 

"Hey!" Jesse called over the railing as Hanzo pressed his hand against the door. He paused, reluctant to look above him where his friend leaned over the rail. "If you feel better tomorrow, you want to hang out?" Hanzo swallowed. Hang out and bumble with his feelings all day? He stared, unable to muster a response at Jesse's apprehensive smirk hanging over him. "I've got beer left from the party and it needs to go." Even less reason to go over with built up feelings. Alcohol and emotions didn't mesh recently.

 

But the more he tried to deny himself, the less he could resist that charming smile. That stupid, attractive smile that once pressed against his lips. He became aware of his unsteady breathing and reached up to drag his hair out of his face. Revealing the cheery red that adorned his high cheeks, mistaken for sickness. "Yeah," he muttered, his quiet voice bouncing through the empty stairwell. "Sounds good."

 

"Cool." Jesse leaned back, supporting his weight with the railing. "Feel better." And as quick as he left the closet, he disappeared from view without a word. Hanzo heard the door to the second floor slam shut, his body jolting at the sound.

 

With his hand against the door, he beat his forehead against it one good time. They needed to talk. They needed to talk tomorrow.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hanzo never received the message. The wall of words with sentences that would solve his feelings or destroy them. He laid awake all night making himself sick over the thought of Jesse reciprocating. Or telling him to get over it. The idea that the message belonged to anyone but him seemed absurd. Hanzo was sure that sea of words was the answer to his question. Did it make Jesse uncomfortable?

 

If the kiss didn't, sitting in awkward silence for a couple hours sure did. Although he didn't feel much better about anything, he forced himself over regardless. But he spent the evening with his face in his phone, looking up nothing to stall the inevitable. They needed to talk about what happened. What those few minutes locked in the closet did to Hanzo's heart. They had to talk, but Hanzo couldn't force the words.

 

"Not in the drinking mood, huh?" Jesse questioned from his spot on the foot of his bed. He looked to the unopened beer bottle on the floor. Hanzo looked up from his phone, back against the wall and legs stretched on the mattress. They caught eyes, but Hanzo glanced away with a swift nod. "You still sick?"

 

Hanzo tensed his shoulders. He wasn't the best at hiding a bad mood. Jesse knew he wasn't sick. "Headache," he fibbed again. Although at this point there was no exaggeration. His head throbbed with a flood of words his heart begged him to say. But he couldn't do it. They wouldn't come out as eloquent as he planned. Hanzo feared Jesse's response would shove them right back down his throat. He didn't look up from his phone, afraid to see the look smacked on his friend's face.

 

Jesse stood to sweep up the unopened bottle and crossed his small studio apartment. He tucked the beer into the fridge and sighed. Loud. Jesse  _knew_ he wasn't sick. The television shut off and Hanzo grew aware of his breathing. Uneven, like his heart. Unsteady, threatening to bust a hole in his chest. Barefoot steps rounded the kitchen counter and Jesse stood beside the bed. "You're mad at me."

 

"Mad at you?" Hanzo mumbled, letting his hands rest in his lap. Far from it. If Hanzo was mad at anyone, it was himself.

 

"You're mad at me because of what happened at the party." Oh, good. Hanzo didn't have to be the first to break the ice.

 

Hanzo inhaled, shutting off his phone and setting it to the side. "I said it was fine." It wasn't. "It was just a kiss." It wasn't. "Just forget about it." Something Hanzo could never do, but his cool demeanor wouldn't let him say otherwise.

 

"Stop lyin'." Hanzo tilted his head, staring at his friend from the corner of his eye. "You've been different since then. I know you well enough to realize when you're pissed off." Jesse shrugged, his mouth open in preparation of his next defense. But he fell silent, instead returning to his spot on the foot of the bed. The tense silence burrowed into the pit of Hanzo's stomach and built a home in the hollows of his aching heart. He came off colder than he wished, but building a wall was the easiest way to contain his secret. "I'm sorry for what happened. I crossed a weird line, and if you want to forget it, we will."

 

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. But he didn't want to forget it. Although brief, there was magic in his body he never experienced laying lips on another. They only reason he acted indifferent was because of Jesse's disinterest once over. "Why did you ask me?"

 

Jesse shifted his weight against the bed, folding his hands between his knees. He offered his open hand to a nearby beer bottle. Opened hours ago, but as full as the one Hanzo left unopened. "We were drunk."

 

"We've been drunk together before. Often, and by ourselves. Why then?" Hanzo cleared his throat when the nerves hitched. He feigned a cough, to which Jesse side eyed him. This conversation was not going as planned. Even though Hanzo ran through it about eighty seven ways before heading over. He wanted Jesse to admit something first so he didn't have to. A reason to squash his unrequited feelings. Or the opportunity to steal his lips again. "There has been plenty of opportunities to kiss me growing up." He lowered his attention to Jesse's nervous hands. The way he twirled a silver ring on his right hand. The more Hanzo spoke, the more he fidgeted. "Why now when we're adults in-"

 

"Hanzo, I don't know!" Jesse threw his hands at his sides, letting out a frustrated grunt. Hanzo jolted a bit, fingers falling against the bed. Why was he the one getting bent out of shape? He wasn't the one harboring affectionate feelings for his long time best friend. Or... Jesse swept up the abandoned beer bottle and nursed the tip to his lips. He swallowed, but hesitated to drink. "People do dumb shit when they're drunk." His voice traveled with him to the kitchen. He poured the warm beer down the drain alongside Hanzo's patience. Hanzo wasn't the only one acting strange.

 

"Did you feel something?" Hanzo blurted. He pressed his back into the wall, staring at the ceiling. There was a loud clank after Jesse dropped the bottle in the trash. And then there was nothing. Silence. Hanzo hit a nerve and knew he should have kept to himself. He shouldn't have come over. He should have forgotten all about it.

 

"Did you?" Jesse returned. Less of a question, more of an accusation.

 

"You never answer my-"

 

"You did!" Jesse smacked his hands on the counter top, obnoxious laughter filling the room. Hanzo clenched his fists around the bunched fabric of his jeans. It wasn't happy laughter. It was that laugh he did when he proved a point. Sarcastic, loud. Right, he was right. "That's why you've been so weird since then cause you liked it." Jesse waltzed beside the bed, his hands perched on his hips in a matter of fact manner. He was right. He was so right. But because of his insensitivity, Hanzo didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Admit it."

 

Hanzo looked up at him through a veil of dark hair that framed his face. He searched for a response, one filled with as much sarcasm as Jesse dished out. It was almost painful how funny his friend found the situation. Being silent hadn't helped. Trying to get answers didn't work. Honesty was the only solution. "What if I did, Jesse?" he muttered, staring to the foot of the bed. "What if I... realized..." He paused, drawing in a slow breath, releasing it through his nose. "Jesse... I..."

 

"Oh, shit, you really feel like that," his friend sighed, hands falling to his side. His body plopped heavy on the foot of the bed, and they couldn't look at each other. Hanzo turned his head to the side, catching their reflection in the powered off TV. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

 

"Because it's weird to have feelings for your best friend?" That's what he wanted to say. It wasn't unheard of. People fell in love all the time after years of knowing one another. But to not have an inkling of affection until he kissed him. Not a second of consideration his entire life. They shared a lot, a lot of secrets, a lot of personal feelings. But nothing like this. "I've been trying to figure out if I am... into you or..." He felt Jesse shift against the bed, his body uncomfortable during this situation. Jesse didn't have to answer. The moment made him feel weird. "Or if I'm overthinking it because I was drunk. Like you said, people do dumb things when they're drunk."

 

"Yeah..." That one word answer, before only a text message. Now presented to him in the heaviest sigh rolling off Jesse's chest. Much harsher than he read the text, more massive than the silence. Hanzo was not the only one harboring a secret. "You didn't feel like this at all before the party? Ever?"

 

Hanzo thought back to the closet where they fought with old jackets and shoes for space. When Jesse first asked, and Hanzo shot him down. What a ridiculous question. Kissing him. A thought that never crossed Hanzo's mind until right that moment. “ _We’ve been friends for how long and you haven’t thought like… like once.”_

 

A thought that inhabited Jesse's for a while. How long had he considered it? How long had he been waiting to ask? Was it only a curious thought, or was it a preface for something more serious? Hanzo bit his lower lip, tapping Jesse's hip with the tip of his foot to grab his attention from the silence. "What are we going to do?" he questioned with another nudge from his toe. Hanzo's feelings were laid out on the table now. Jesse knew, although he didn't understand how strong they were. But at least he knew. Now Hanzo needed confirmation of what to do with them.

 

Jesse twirled the ring on his finger one last time, glancing at the foot prodding him in the side. He followed the line up Hanzo's legs until they caught eyes. But only for a moment. He chewed the inside of his cheek, turning to look out the blinds instead. "We could try again."

 

Hanzo withdrew his foot, tensing his back against the wall. His eyes widened and he ran his fingers through his hair, raking back his bangs. For a moment, he cracked a smile at the idea. But then remembered that trying again would only hurt further. If Jesse didn't reciprocate, what was the point of teasing the idea with another kiss? "Why?"

 

"To make sure you're... feelin' what you're feelin', you know?" Jesse wouldn't turn his head, wouldn't look him in the eye. Meaning he was either hiding a smile, or he was nervous. Too brash, too proud to admit that he brought it up because he felt the same. For much longer, or that's what Hanzo assumed. That's what he hoped. "You ever get plastered and think something is so amazing because you're drunk?"

 

Hanzo nodded to himself. All the time. He thought cats were amazing when he was drinking. Jumping into a pool butt naked with a bunch of strangers sounded like a great alcohol infused idea. Playing truth or dare felt like it could be a good ride. Fun when he was drunk. But he knew kissing Jesse, drunk or sober, wouldn't compare to anything else. "Maybe it's like that... maybe it only feels good cause you were drinkin'. Don't know until you try again."

 

Hanzo didn't have to try again to know where he stood. After that kiss, he had been head over heels infatuated with his best friend. As if that single lip lock opened his eyes to all the things he loved about him. The initial moment was a flush of physical affection, but the more he reflected on it, the stronger he felt. "The problem isn't not knowing," Hanzo muttered, drawing his knees toward his body as Jesse began to move. He crossed them like a child in grade school, leaning away from the wall. "I know what I'm feeling."

 

He watched Jesse, the way he tried to scoot himself closer on the unmade me. All while keeping his attention away from Hanzo. Looking anywhere but his best friend. "The issue is..." Hanzo murmured, leaning his elbows into his thighs as he drew himself a little closer to Jesse. Waiting for him to come to him, but giving me a little encouragement. "I let you kiss me, and I still have these terrible, overbearing feelings, and you..." Won't admit it. The more he sat and stared at Jesse, the more he realized the mutual feelings. Jesse wouldn't have asked for a kiss because he was drunk. He wanted to for a long time. He only needed an excuse in case things went south. "And you don't feel the same."

 

The two sat only inches away, Jesse's legs off the side of the bed, Hanzo's knee pressed into his hip. Hanzo wanted him to come to him, to open up like he always did before they kissed. Taking comfort in his friendship and being honest, regardless of his answer. Hanzo knew that his friend wasn't silent because he had bad news. He was silent because he had been dwelling on these feelings long before the party. And he wanted Hanzo to be sure.

 

Jesse took in a long breath, reaching to the side to press his hand into the bed. At first he grasped blanket, then scratching his finger against the side of Hanzo's thigh. His fingers twitching for something to hold onto as he struggled through thoughts. Looking for words in the prolonged silence. Hanzo reached out, linking a couple fingers with his friend's. Feeling the way they shook against his fingertips. Almost drawing away before finding comfort together. "You don't have to worry about that," Jesse hummed, tilting his head to catch Hanzo's eye. He smiled, nervous, body fluttered with anxious butterflies. He brought Hanzo's hand towards his face, lingering before his lips like he aimed to kiss them. When he hesitated, Hanzo outstretched his fingers to touch his face.

 

To bring him closer, to run his fingertips along the unkempt stubble on his chin. Thumb below his mouth, lingering like those long aching seconds in the closet. More aware with a sober mind and longing heart. Jesse breathed, lips pursed, waiting for them to touch again. "But maybe you should kiss me for good measure..." he smirked. That knowing smile. He was right, so happy to be right.

 

Hanzo rolled forward onto his knees, letting both his hands clasp Jesse's face. Sealing the breath between them and planting his lips onto his crush. Jesse turned, drawing a leg up onto the bed, and allowed himself to drown in Hanzo's affection. Hanzo felt different in a sober state, aware of each nerve tingling in his body. The way his tongue begged for him, the tension from the tips of his toes to the edge of his lips. And most of all, the way Jesse pulled at his shirt again.

 

Not because he wanted to undress him, but because he never wanted to let go. Jesse had him where he wanted him. No time limit, no confined closet, no party. Only each other and the rest of the night. "How long?" Hanzo breathed through a second of missed lips, his sentences falling to the wayside. He knew, he could tell Jesse pined for him a while by the grip around his shirt.

 

Jesse paused their incessant lip lock to admire the flush of red gathering on Hanzo's cheek. There was only so much light in that little closet that he hadn't the chance to look him over after their first kiss. Only from a distance after Hanzo avoided him, and he thought he made the worst mistake by asking. Running outside to down a cigarette seemed like the only recovery. "Years..." He swallowed, the knot in his throat collapsing into his heart. His pulsed rumbled through his body and he stared. Stared because it was happening. Stared because he didn't need alcohol to do it. Stared because Hanzo was the most gorgeous man he ever laid his eyes on.

 

But he knew that last one long, long ago. That one night when Hanzo came to crash at his place as Jesse struggled through his first major break up. He came over, they played video games, they ignored what happened. Until Jesse broke down, and Hanzo was there for him like he always had been. Jesse, red eyed and puffy from crying, a disheveled mess because he hadn't slept in days. And Hanzo looked still looked at him like his favorite person in the world. And that's when Jesse decided he couldn't stand to be with anyone else.

 

It just took him a couple years, a little liquid courage, and seven more minutes to admit it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY IT'S DONE FOR REAL NOW. And it was a HAPPY ENDING. Hooray.
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this, and think I'll write more sweet tooth, fluff inducing angst like this in the future. Everyone who left kudos, comments, and encouraged me to keep adding to it, you are the greatest. I am floored by the reception I got in the few DAYS that it took me to write this... 
> 
> Hope you all got what you wanted <3
> 
> If you like what you read and want to support me in any way, please considering donating a tip to my [Ko-fi!](http://ko-fi.com/studiostarlight)! Thank you!


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